Claiming Marcus (Lords of Discord 1)

His head was down as if he were oblivious to his surroundings, but he could hear the telltale scrape of worn rubber on the rough concrete. Footsteps followed him. They had started off steady but were picking up speed. He lifted his head slightly and saw the black gaping maw of the alley a few dozen feet away. The perfect place for an ambush.

He maintained his current pace while listening to the approaching person. The wind shifted and he picked up a faint hint of sweat and body odor that had him crinkling his nose in disgust. It would have almost turned his stomach, but he was already so damn hungry. His would-be attacker was not going to be saved by his poor hygiene.

Just a few feet from the alley, the figure finally reached him, shoving the muzzle of a gun deep into his lower back.

“Keep walking into the alley and you won’t die,” the pungent man instructed.

Marcus took one step toward the alley and quickly spun around, grabbing the wrist of his attacker with his left hand. He squeezed tight enough to feel the bones start to give. The man shouted, and the gun fell to the pavement with a noisy clatter.

Stepping in close, Marcus tried to ignore the smell that grew worse with his increasing panic. “Yes, let’s go into the alley, and you might not die tonight,” Marcus said calmly.

The mugger placed a hand against Marcus’s chest as if to keep some distance between them, but still took one sliding, unsteady step after another until they were cloaked in the thick darkness of the unlit alley.

As soon as they were free from the view of any other midnight pedestrians, Marcus twirled the attacker as if he were a willing dance partner and slammed him face first into the brick wall. The mugger groaned, his free hand pressing against the bricks in front of him.

“Wh-what the fuck, man?”

“Silence, and this will be over quickly,” Marcus snapped.

Putting his hand onto the man’s shoulder, he pressed him to the wall while he dropped his head back. His fangs slid down, and some of the hunger and desperation that had been gnawing at him for the past several hours receded a tiny bit. He’d waited too long to go hunting. His mind had been too occupied with this damn move, finding a new assistant, and the endless mercurial demands of the Ministry. He’d not wanted to bother with it.

But now that he was walking in the comforting darkness of the night, holding his prey captive, that old need to feed came rushing with a sense of freedom and joy he didn’t want to look too closely at. He didn’t understand this part of himself, and even after more than one hundred and seventy years, he still kept it under a tight rein. The joy and the freedom felt too delicious and wicked. Too decadent. If he remained in control, there would never be any accidents. Nothing to regret later.

With a tight grip, Marcus pulled his meal a little closer. His fingers dug into the man’s shirt, stretching it away from his neck. The smell of sweat and fear was growing thicker, but now that he was so close to him, Marcus could also smell his blood. The sticky sweet scent teased his nose, whispering its dark delights and forbidden promises. God, why did he wait so long to feed?

He struck quickly, digging his fangs deep, hitting veins with unerring precision. His dinner cried out again yet didn’t try to escape. Marcus removed his fangs but kept his mouth over the neatly placed holes, allowing the blood to flow down his throat. He sucked hard and captured a delicious mouthful, sending it down his throat. The worst of the hunger pangs eased, and Marcus could finally give a small thought to his donor.

Tapping the swell of magic hiding behind his heart, Marcus sent a feeling of deep pleasure to the mugger. He could hear the man’s heart slow from its frantic pace to a steady thump-thump.

A low moan escaped from the foul stranger, and Marcus could feel muscles relax in his victim as he continued to feed.

“Oh God, fuck yes,” he groaned. It sounded as if he’d reached down and stroked his own hardened cock even though neither of them moved.

Marcus shifted slightly from one foot to the other as if to reassure himself that no part of his body touched his victim besides his mouth and hands. Another needy sound left the man, and it tingled along every nerve ending, sending blood straight to his cock.

Fuck, why? What the hell is wrong with me?

He knew he wouldn’t have this problem if he fed off women. He’d heard their cries of pleasure, and they’d not affected him in the least. But with their smaller frames and the risk of them being pregnant, Marcus avoided women for their own safety. At least, that was what he told himself.